Perfect
by phillyphil10
Summary: Why chase something you can never acheive?


**First BL fanfic. Let's give this a try. **

**read.**

Rebecca sighed, her black hair under her as she lied stretched out on the red couch; a remote in one hand, a bag of Sour Cream and Onion ruffles in the other, and a small child crawling onto her torso.

The boredom in her voice was palpable. "Donny, how many times have I told you? No climbing on mommy."

"Sooorry" the little boy chimed disappointedly as he hopped off of his mother and sat in a nearby recliner. Donny began to squirm around, but froze when he heard the agitation in Rebecca's voice.

"And what did we say about climbing of furniture?"

"'Spensive to replace." the child droned, pouting as he sat down properly.

"That's right." she said with a pseudo-sweet smile and a murderous look in her eye.

Rebecca turned back to the TV and continued flipping through channels.

"Fake, lame,stupid-"

"Ooh, leave it. Leave it. That one!" the four year old requested, enthusiastically piointing to the flickering screen.

It was a gunfighter flick. It wasn't anything like the real thing, but it made her smile none the less. It was a mixture of both nostalgia and pride. He was definitely his mother's son.

"Alright," she said cautiously, "but don't tell Daddy. He'd flip if he knew you were watching something this violent." Rebecca's words were in whispers to ensure that the little one got the message.

Donny nodded his head rapidly and moved to the floor for a closer view.

"Down in front!" she joked as the TV highlighted Donny's jet black hair.

Donny quickly moved to the right to give his mother room to see.

By the end of the movie, both Rebecca and Donny were on the edge of their seats.

"But how's he gonna shoot if his arm's broke?"

"I dunno, keep watching."

"Oh cool! He shot the guy's arm to make him shoot!"

"I know. I'm watching it too." Rebecca said, getting slightly annoyed.

At last the movie ended; both parent and child filled with adrenaline.

"You know what I hate?" they both laughed excitedly in unison.

They both suddenly became silent. A mischievous look flashed across his eyes and then hers.

Rebecca and Donny hopped to their feet and started pretending to shoot at each other. Donny hid behind the couch and fired his invisible rounds without looking.

"Oh no!" Donny exclaimed in pretend panic.

"What is it?" she asked as she stopped firing.

"I'm outta bullets!"

Rebecca couldn't help but marvel at the child's attention to detail. No kid his age was that thorough.

"Me too." Rebecca laughed. "There's only one way to settle this…" The little boy peeked out from behind the couch curiously.

"Tickle fight!"

Rebecca lunged at Donny and began to tickle his belly, but Donny was not one to be defeated so easily. He got Rebecca a few good times before they collapsed on the floor breathing heavily and giggling like madmen.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. This was followed shortly by a repeatedly rung doorbell.

Akane was home.

Rebecca rushed to the door and opened it to find her rather impatient nine year old daughter.

"Hey Mom, you need to sign this. Bye!" Akane said quickly as she ran past her mother, leaving a crumpled piece of yellow paper in her hand.

Rebecca instinctively grabbed Akane by her shirt and reeled her back in.

"Whoa, whoa. Where's the fire?" Rebecca asked curiously as she uncrumpled what she could tell was a note from Akane's teacher.

Rebecca skimmed through it at a rapid pace, then stared irritably at Akane upon completion.

"Curse words, Akane? Really?" Rebecca asked in a fatigued tone.

"It was only a little." she coaxed.

"Ugh! Akane, we've talked about this. Those words… just aren't nice to say."

"It's just that- that I was really mad."

"That doesn't excuse it. School has rules." Rebecca said, taking a deep breath.

"But Anna and Stephanie, they.." Akane looked away. Tears began to form in her eyes, instantly getting Rebecca's attention.

"What did they do?"

Rebecca listened to the little girl's story; garbled with sniffles and sobs.

"Why do I have to have such a weird name?!" Akane cried "I just wanna have a normal name. I'm tired of them picking on me!"

Rebecca wiped the tears from her child's face. "Your name isn't weird." she said gently. "It's really pretty and…" Rebecca paused; searching for another word. "…unique. It's Japanese."

"Like Daddy?"

"Exactly." Rebecca smiled as she patted Akane's head.

"But what about the girls at school?" her daughter asked, realizing her peers might not share the kind sentiment.

"Well, I can't approve of you cursing in school. It makes me an' your dad look like bad parents." Rebecca's eyes lit up. "I got it! Next time someone talks crap about your name, just slug 'em!"

"Slug 'em?"

"Slug 'em, slug 'em!" Donny chimed.

"Yeah," Rebecca said, punching the air as she talked. "Just hit the next kid who messes with you. That'll shut 'em up!"

Akane started to punch the way Rebecca did. "Like this, mommy?"

"No, no no. straight." she demonstrated. "And put your torso into it."

Donny started to punch too; still chanting "Slug 'em" it wasn't long before the other two joined in. Soon they were all laughing and chanting "Slug 'em" as they punched their imaginary opponents.

Rebecca and her children all plopped onto the couch laughing. Akane suddenly noticed something.

"Mom, the house is a mess."

She was right. There were chips on the floor, jackets and coats draped all over the place, toys, and even loose papers sprawled this way and that.

"Shit! I forgot to clean!" Rebecca caught herself when she realized what she said.

"Mommy, you said those words were bad." Donny scolded.

"Y-yeah but… I'm a grown-up so it's okay." Rebecca stuttered nervously.

"Mom. It's not good to say not to do something and then do it." Akane added.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." The tired mother finally conceded. "Now, how about we tackle this mess?"

Rebecca and her little helpers spent hours cleaning their disheveled homestead; each room looking like it had it's own personal tornado.

The trio walked exaustedly into Rebecca's room. They collapsed on the red, king sized bed she and her husband shared.

"God, that took forever!" Rebecca complained. "What time is it?" Answerless, she peered at the digital clock resting on her reddish-brown nightstand.

"Six o clock?!" Rebecca panicked "Oh shi- shoot! He'll be home in half an hour! I haven't even started dinner yet!"

"Pizza!" The children cried in unison.

"Jeez." Rebecca sighed with a palm to her face. "I guess I have no choice."

The smell of pizza filled the air as Rebecca dug around in her black leather purse for a tip.

Nothing.

"Sorry," Rebecca shrugged. "I guess I had less than I thought."

"Whatever." The scrawny black teenager shrugged as he handed her the pizzas.

Rebecca closed the door and proceeded to the white, freshly cleaned kitchen. The kids followed closely with their eyes glued to the boxes. As soon as she put the two boxes down, Rebecca heard the familiar sound of their Cobalt blue 2005 Honda Civic pulling into the driveway. Within seconds, she heard the same melodic, cliché line that any woman hears when her husband returns.

"Honey, I'm home!"

Despite it being unbearably overdone, there was a certain warmth in the phrase whenever Rock uttered it.

The kids excitedly rushed out of the kitchen to meet their beloved father.

Rebecca followed at a casual pace, turning the corner to see the two children hugging their father's waist. Rock bent down and returned the embrace.

"Hey kids." Rock greeted gently.

The siblings quickly rushed back into the kitchen to wait for their meal. As Rock stood up he noticed them run past a smiling Rebecca.

"Revy!" Rock beamed as he walked toward her.

"Hey you." she replied as the two reached each other, entering a warm embrace.

"You're just in time. Hope you're hungry for pizza. I got pepperoni and sausage." Rebecca said after kissing him.

"Pizza again?"

"Yeah. So?" Rebecca retorted lazily.

"So? So this is the third time this week. That can't be healthy." Rock sighed. "Isn't nutrition important to you?"

"Look, if it's so important to you, why don'cha put on an apron every once an' a while?" Rebecca retorted defiantly.

"Because," Rock pointed out. "Unlike you, I have a job."

"And this isn't a job? I work my fingers to the bone every day cooking, cleaning, dropping Donny off at kindergarten, picking him up-"

"That's not the point." Rock said, trying to keep his voice down.

"Then what _is_ the point, Rock?!" Rebecca elevated, habitually reaching for imaginary pistols.

"The point is that I actually _do_ my job."

Rebecca gritted her teeth. Rage was in her eyes. Regret was in Rock's.

"Are you kiddin' me?! Have you seen this house?! It's fuckin' spottless!"

Rock took a deep calming breath. He looked into her eyes. His resolve was unwavering.

"And how long ago did you do all this?"

"Hours ago." she lied confidently.

"Then why's the floor wet?" He asked, smugly looking down at his damp socks. "No wonder you didn't have time to cook dinner."

Rebecca smiled slyly. "I guess I'm caught. Alright, fine. You win. I'm sorry. Next time I won't procrastinate. Okay?"

Rock smiled back, finding solace in his win. "Okay."

"Now come on, the pizza's getting cold."

The small family of four laughed and smiled as they shared stories from their respective days in between bites of pizza.

"-total n00b. Woulda pwned a few more of 'em too, but I had to go get Donny. You should really check it out. It's incredible. The graphics are frickin' amazin'." Rebecca paused as she took a large gulp of her ice cold Heineken.

"We should play after dinner." Donny suggested.

"I dunno, Donny, I think it might be a little violent for a kid your age."

"He's played it before." Akane replied.

"Besides," Donny added, "I watched Shoot 'Em Up today. That movie has a_ lot _of shooting." Donny gestured, stretching his arms out wide to fully convey the concept.

Rock did his best to hide his anger.

"Revy, can I talk to you outside for a minute?"

Rebecca gulped air, clearly intimidated by Rock's tone. She followed him into the hallway; the site of their previous argument.

"Revy, can you explain to me why our son was watching Shoot 'Em Up?"

The proud housewife did her best to hide her remorse. "Because it was a kick-ass movie and we wanted to watch it."

"You're joking, right? That's your excuse? Revy, he's four years old for God's sake!"

"Oh come on," Rebecca snorted "I covered his eyes during the brothel scenes."

"Did you honestly think that would be enough?!" Rock shouted; now shaking with anger. "I can't believe you! You're so irresponsible! The worst part is that you don't even know how fucked up this is!"

"Of course I know how fucked up it is!" Rebecca snapped back.

"So then why the fuck did you let him watch a movie like that?"

"Pride, all right? He wanted to watch a gunslinger flick and I was so proud I couldn't say no! Is it so wrong for him to take after his mother?"

"That's not taking after his mother." Rock sternly replied. "You're not Two Hands anymore, Revy. You're Rebecca Okajima. Two Hands died in Roanapur."

"Two Hands isn't dead, dumbass! She's been hiding, but she'll always be there. She tries to pretend to be this happy housewife; content with her cage, but that's not who she is!" Revy quieted down. "Two Hands is a killer. _I'm _a killer. And no amount of Call of Duty, Halo, or whatever new game those fuckers make can change that."

"You're wrong!" Rock protested. "You act like you're this cold hard murderer, but you're not. You haven't killed anyone in ten years. Remember that day? Our last mission? The day you found out you were pregnant?"

"I shot ten guys that day. Three heads, five hearts, two throats."

"_Before_ you saw the test. You changed after it. Weren't your exact words, 'Rock, say goodbye to Roanapur?' You were more eager to leave than _I_ was."

"Roanapur was no place to start a family." Rebecca said lowly. "Look, I know all this stuff, okay? I know what I said and I meant it." Rebecca looked downward, unable to meet his eyes. "But you gotta understand that between the falsified documents, the new lifestyle, and no longer dying my hair, I just- I lost my…"

"Identity?" her husband asked.

"Hit the nail right on the fuckin' head, baby." she replied.

"Revy, you didn't lose your identity. You just threw away all the destructive parts. You're still he same loudmouthed, wisecracking, cynic I fell in love with."

"You forgot gun-toting." she added, not ready to give in.

"You're living in the past." he maintained.

"You're trying to stop me from being me."

"You're stopping yourself! I love the kids, but I would've been happy just being married to you. We could've stayed, even if you had to have an abortion to do it. Hell, we could've had the kids and moved somewhere else. New York was _your_ idea! I left those choices up to you. I chose to support you. So don't you dare ever say that any of this is my fault!"

"Rock, that's not-" she couldn't bear to finish. A wave of silence washed over the couple.

Rock turned his back to her. "You can't live that life anymore. Not if you wanna be a member of this family."

The rest of the night went by slowly and quietly. The air was thick with the gloom of heavy hearts.

Rebecca crawled under the red sheets. Her husband's form was as still as the dark room around them. His back was to her. Rebecca followed suit and turned her back to him as well. Hunched over, in a fetal position, she sadly stared at the wall. His words echoed in her mind.

She looked over to him, itching to say something.

Rebecca began to open her mouth.

"Rock, are you-"

"I'm sorry, Revy." Rock turned around. His voice was full of regret. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. You do a lot around here, and I didn't realize how much you've sacrificed to be where we are. We were able to convince the authorities that I was a hostage, but we couldn't do that for you. You have to pretend you're some other Rebecca. I don't think I could've done that. I can't imagine living without being me."

Rebecca turned to face Rock. "No. I shouldn't have shown Donny that movie. You were right. It was irresponsible."

Rock smiled at her.

"So… we okay now?" Rebecca asked with a grin of her own.

"Yeah." Rock replied.

"Great, 'cause I can't sleep a wink." Rebecca mounted her husband and turned the light next to him on. Her voluptuous breasts were visible through her black see through lingerie.

"You always wear lingerie when we have a fight." Rock pointed out.

"We always make up." she giggled; moving in to kiss him.

"Tomorrow's my day off." he added before their lips met.

"Then let's take our time." Rebecca whispered in his ear.

Time flew by. The two nude bodies cuddled underneath the sheets. They were both breathing heavily, covered in sweat.

"I don't think I can go another round." Rock finally said.

"That's fine." Rebecca replied. "I think I'm spent too."

"How many times was that?" he asked curiously.

"Dunno, wasn't countin'."

Rock began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Rebecca asked.

"Us. We're so fucked up."

"No shit." she replied. "Shame we don't smoke anymore. I could really use one right now."

"Yeah." Rock said before kissing his wife once more. "So… I was thinking. Since tomorrow's my day off, we should hire a sitter; go do something, just the two of us."

"Well, there is this gun show in Rock Hill." she suggested hopefully.

"Sure thing." Rock replied.

"Y'know, Rock," Rebecca said sleepily "Two Hands is nice… but I think I prefer being Mrs. Okajima, firearm enthusiast."

"Glad to hear it." Rock smiled.

"I love you, Rock." The words came out so naturally. She smiled with her husband's shoulders. She felt her eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

"I love you too Revy." Rock turned off the lamp to the right of him. They were surrounded by calm darkness.

"Good night, Revy."

"G'night, Rock." Rebecca said sleepily as she drifted into the sandman's grasp.

* * *

The sun's bright light shined on Revy's face from the adjacent window. A smile crept across her face as she stirred from her sleep.

"'Mornin' hon." she said groggily, smiling as she opened her eyes.

The bed was empty. Revy pulled the beige blanket up as she looked around for her beloved husband.

"R-Rock?"

Her bed was small with a bare mattress. The floor was covered in empty cans, bottles, and cigarette butts.

Revy carefully tiptoed around the mess in her usual fashion, careful not to trip over anything.

"What the he-" reality faded in as she rummaged around the dishevelment for her mirror.

"A- a dream." Revy found the simple black circular mirror that she had often used.

Staring back at her wasn't Rebecca Okajima, black haired wife and mother in her thirties, but Revy, Two Hands: The vicious redheaded mercenary of the Lagoon Company. It was so obvious. So natural.

Revy sighed as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "A family, huh? Me? Really? And Rock?" Revy started to laugh uneasily as she lit the cigarrette. She began to blush at the thought; a sight entirely visible through the mirror. Revy's mood began to change.

"Wait, why the hell am I blushing?! What the fuck am I thinking? It was just a stupid-ass dream!" Revy tossed the mirror aside and crossed her arms like a child.

"Chh. Like I'd ever marry a guy like him."


End file.
